Disco Lemonade
by Mangsy
Summary: It doesn’t have to be so hard. Love doesn’t have to be as hard as Jack’s making it for you." --Sawyer and Kate enjoy life on the island...together. SKATER content like never before.
1. So Hard

Just a collection of short stories about Sawyer and Kate enjoying island life. Takes place after the events in **Whatever The Case May Be**. Enjoy.

Disco Lemonade 

"Why do you bother worryin' bout what he thinks about you?"

Kate had a hard time picking out the southern drawl from the swirling sounds that deafened her ears. The crashing of the tidal waves, someone was whispering in her ear. A gun was fired, she was sobbing. Someone screamed. Repeat. Sand scraped against the soles of her feet as she pulled her knees as close to her chest as they could go, a protective barrier from the sounds that haunted her. A tear dripped from the corner of her eye onto her pants, a casualty of war. The man perched beside her was unaware of the battle raging inside her, but he was pretty damn sure who had set off the first shot.

"You hear me, Freckles?" he reached over and grabbed her elbow, shaking her rather roughly, "listen to me when I'm talking to you."

"What the fuck do you want, Sawyer?" she growled, "I'm not in the mood."

"Why do you care what he thinks about you?" he was staring at her now. The way that he could only stare at her. It scared her sometimes, how intense his stare could be. She looked away.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," he said, "The doc, I heard you two. I don't know why you're so eager to please him."

"That's not true,"

"It is, sassafras and you know it," he was in front of her now, hands gripping her shoulders forcing her to look at him, "Every time something bad happens to ya, you go crawling back to the good ol' Doc to be redeemed and all he does is cut you and kick you while you're down. Then you do it all over again."

She could look at him now. She knew he was wrong, she could feel her eyes flash, "You're wrong," she told him, "Jack's not like that, you're just jea—"

"Why the hell are you protecting him?" Sawyer exclaimed angrily, "Why the fuck are you protecting the man that just left you after he made you cry. What makes him so great, hey? Tell me that?"

Caught. Not even Kate could think of response to that. Maybe Sawyer had a point?

"Why do you care?" she countered, "what does it matter to you what Jack and I do?"

"What do you think?" Kate could have sworn his voice dropped a few notches, "Why the hell would I want to sit and watch while you get your pretty little ass kicked every time the doc thinks he needs to know something about you?" Kate shifted under his gaze and callused palms that still clung to her shoulders. One had strayed into her hair and was absently toying with a loose curl, "We're the same, Kate. You and me, we've got pasts so twisted it'd make someone want to hurl just to know about them. We're not like them, you're not like Captain Jack."

"You don't know that," she mumbled, suddenly unable to find her voice.

"I do know that, I've been where you are before," she could tell he was fighting the urge to move his arms around her, and she wished he'd stop and give in, "I wanted redemption, wanted to pretend none of it happened," a second hand was brushing away a tear that had ventured away from her eye shut tight, "but it did happen, and nothing you, or Jack do, can make it go away."

Kate felt herself nod, heard him sigh, "The way I see it," he continued, "we're stranded on an island. Surviving a plane crash is enough for the both of us. Whether we're living with the optimists, we both know no one's comin'. It's too long a time for us to be beating ourselves up for things that happened away from here," her eyes met his, blue and green collided, "It doesn't have to be so hard. Love doesn't have to be as hard as Jack's making it for you," he was still talking, voice scratchy, "he doesn't love you, freckles. You're just another case for him to fix. A pretty face."

The unexpected monologue was the most twisted thing that Kate needed at that point in time, and for a revelling moment, Kate knew exactly what Sawyer was telling her. And she felt like she could kiss him right then and there.

He felt the same.

In a tangle of arms and legs and sand and souls they were on each other before they could even realize it. It was passionate and soft and for the first time in forever, Kate felt relieved.

Sawyer could love her.

Jack could go fuck himself.


	2. Rumble and Tumble

A week ago, Kate never would have been able to picture herself shacking up in Sawyers tent. With him. With him as in sleeping together. Each night they found comfort in each others arms. Kate couldn't remember the last time she woke up in the arms of a man she loved. Couldn't remember that warm feeling that walked hand in hand with strong arms and a bare rising chest. Soft snoring and a warm breath that tickled her cheek like a white feather. Sometimes she wasn't the first to awake, and was graced with feather-soft kisses in the morning sun.

"So does this mean we're a couple?" she asked one morning while they were lazing about, "You know, like shower-me-with-flowers?"

"I was never into flowers, freckles," he smirked, "although I do remember this one time in central park when me and this lovely little blonde got it on in a flower gard—oww!" Kate had smacked him square in the chest, "what was that for?"

"I'd rather not know about your sexual encounters with girls that aren't me, thank you," she told him, holding herself up beside him on her forearms.

"Well, we could make sure I only talked about our rumble-and-tumble sessions," he growled deeply and rolled so he was holding himself over her.

"Good luck with that," she grinned and pecked him on the lips, "get offa me, I've gotta get dressed."

"Good luck with that," smooch. To a casual observer, the two of them were enough to make one want to hurl, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

"What are we doing today?" she said as she rustled around looking for her favorite orange shirt, "I thought we could go pick some fruit over by the waterfall. What?" He was staring at her again. This wasn't his, "I know who you are stare,".

"Sometime wrong?" she asked again, pulling her shirt over her head. Didn't see him lunge, tackling her to the ground, "Sawyer!" she squealed, "Sawyer stop it!" his hands had roamed to her waist and his fingers were mercilessly attacking her sides. He laughed huskily and leaned down to cover her face in sloppy kisses like a dog would.

"Sawyer! Mmmmggffrfgg, stop it! Ewww! Get off!" her giggles and shrieks were easily mistaken for another form of play by those outside their tent, "Oh gross, my face is all wet no—AHHH!" he moved his lips down to her stomachs and proceeded to perform loud raspberries on the tender flesh. Kate was in tears now, squirming and flailing about beneath him. One hand had managed to break free and grabbed a chunk of skin beneath his shirt. He yelped in surprise and jumped off of her.

"What the hell was that for!" she yelled at him, but her peals of laughter betrayed the angry look she was trying to give off.

"Didn't know you were so ticklish, sassafras," Sawyer chuckled at her dischielved state, "have to remember that for later use." He winked and she rolled her eyes.

"Out." Her hand had moved from where it was keeping her sides together to mimic an angry arrow directed at the front of the tent.

Sawyer's face dropped, "Aww, you're not angry are ya freckles? I was only playing,"

"I'm not angry, although I do enjoy knowing I'm not gonna be attacked while dressing. Now out, you can come in when I'm done." Looking dejected, but still smiling, Sawyer crawled out of the tent and into the morning sun…

…where a group of curious bystanders stood waiting for some explination of the sounds they heard only moments previous.

"Sounds like you two were having fun," Charlie had appeared at Sawyer's side out of nowhere. Sometimes the hobbit scared Sawyer. He was about to shoot down any of the little man's hopes for a raunchy story, but thought better of it. He leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Well actually…"

"Sawyer was dreaming about the teddy bear he lost on the plane and began to convulse and drool in his sleep," Kate had emerged from the tent, fully clothed, "On me, no less." Charlie looked from one to the other, then back to Sawyer,

"You had a teddy bear, mate? That's a bloody freaking riot! Hey Hurley, guess what!" and before Sawyer could grab the kid, he was speeding off down the beach to where Hurley was attempting to break the language barrier with Jin. Again. Sawyer dispersed the rest of the onlookers with a simple glare, then turned on Kate.

"What was that for?" he snarked, "payback, I assume?"

Kate just smiled, "I remember a certain southern pervert telling me a few days back that I shouldn't worry about what people think of me," now she was grinning, "I assumed the same should apply to you."

Sawyer screwed up his mouth, "I didn't mean it _that_ way, you know that!"

"Do I?" she cocked her head, "Well, at least now you're reputation will be softened up a little after Charlie tells everyone on the plane about Mr. Pookie." And with that, she was skipping down the beach to the water. Sawyer watched her kick sand up behind her and wondered what a monster he had created.

"It was Mr. Snuggles, thank you," he muttered before disappearing back into their tent in search of clothes and a certain stuffed piece of cloth.


End file.
